How I Spent My Summer Vacation

The girls are off for the summer. This morning I head out the door for work. “Whaaat?,” they cry, “Whereyagoin??” I tell them I have to go to work. “Wer-erk?, but it’s summer!!”

This happens every time they don’t have school. Presidents Day, Fall Break, snow days, teachers’ in-service. In their minds, all the world revolves around school.

I wish it did. I wish when I woke up today all I had to look forward to was figuring out whether I should ride my bike to the library or stay at home and organize my room. I’d love to live by the school calendar. I did once. Sort of.

About three years ago I got a sabbatical from work. Two months paid time off in addition to my regular vacation. I piled it all together and took the summer off with Dee. (Em wasn’t in school yet.) That’s the summer I taught Dee how to do writing practice. We sat together on a squishy blue sofa in a cafe near our house and wrote on topics like, The Rio Grande for 10, GO!

That’s also the summer I realized how good Dee was, how good we all are when we don’t have a monkey in our heads telling us otherwise. Dee showed me what beginner’s mind was.

Now she writes all the time. And paints, too. Writing and painting journals fill her shelves. She leaves homemade books lying around the house with illustrated stories about horses and girls and fairies. Em is starting to write, too. I’ve just realized she’s probably at the age where I can teach her writing practice as well.

Now that the days are lighter later, we can pull out our paints or pens after work and practice together. Just the girls. Not as great as having the entire summer off, but pretty darned good.

28 Responses

If it ever is appropriate, I would really love to heard one of Dee’s writing practices, or Em’s if she learns it soon. It seems enormously refreshing right now to hear a clean, innocent voice. To hear a voice that isn’t trying to sound profound or talented or possibly publishable. Just Wild Mind. Nice.

Oh how the thought of having a summer vacation sounds to my ears right now. I not only work full-time but am taking one class per semester, including summer semester. In fact, class is scheduled to start in 4 minutes. At least it is not one of those gorgeous evenings where spring fades into long summer nights.
And the monkey in my mind is having a heyday. I have to do a simple reading response each week and somehow it turns into a rough draft for a thesis.
I am also looking forward to seeing the creations of Dee & Em. What a gift they are to all of us as you share them here at the ravine.

I agree with Shawn. You are doing great work with your kids & I love it that you share it so we can all revel in the glee.

I’m over my pity party about school. The instructor is a hoot & he makes History & Systems of Psychology really fit into the present. I am appreciating having this opportunity to learn and earn a degree. Also I am grateful for vending machines with Peanut M & M’s to munch on during my break while cruising the internet for the latest inspiration at the red Ravine.

The art is so cool. I’m sitting here looking at it, thinking “Kids can do that, why can’t I?” and then it dawns on me that maybe I can. I never tried. I decided ever so long ago that visual arts were my mother’s “thing.” By conscious choice I determined that my “art” would be verbal. How limiting!

Maybe in my next life!

I always thought retirement would be like summer vacation all the time, and here’s the good news: It is! However, the news is not all good. If you are the kind of person who loves to do a lot of things, there is never enough time, whether you have all day every day or an hour once in awhile.

I echo the sentiments about the way you are raising your daughters. Bravo! My daughter is a few years behind you on this curve, and she appears to be headed down a similar path with two little girls. Our older grandchildren are also amazing. The world is full of amazing children, if you know where to look. If this were not so, I would have trouble getting out of bed in the morning. (Shawn, I’m sorry they aren’t in your classes!)

Shawn – I meant to tell you something earlier before I had to run off to practice reading my Neruda lines (oh my gosh, it’s hard!!). Earlier this year I met a sixth-grade teacher at an Albuquerque school who was using Writing Down the Bones to teach her students. I was so excited that she was doing this. I think it’s a great approach for teaching young people WHILE they’re young. Better to focus on the grammar and spelling and editing *after* they have down the part about getting out what it is they want to say.

I learned the opposite way. I remember getting kudos for nice handwriting and spelling. I was in college before two classmates on a team project told me my writing was too passive and indirect. They couldn’t understand what I was trying to say. I’d labor over every word and end up diluting my story. I’m glad they came out and told me this; I guess they had a vested interest since it was their grade on the line, too. It was still many more years before I began using writing practice to tap into my creator (and not my editor). It will be interesting to see Dee’s progression with writing given her early exposure to writing practice.

skywire: such a dedicated friend and partner (checking red Ravine during M&M break). BTW, you mentioned monkey mind in your earlier comment. You’ve heard from that monkey, but how about QuoinMonkey? If you talk to her, give her a big hello from me.

Ritergal: on the way home from a poetry reading rehearsal tonight, my daughter asked me if I was a writer or an artist. A friend had called on my cell phone (which I had on speaker given I was driving) and asked me why I wasn’t doing more with my art. (Give me a break, I told her, when do I have time to do more with my art?) Anyway, that got Dee to wondering which one it was: writing or art? I told her some people do both and some people pick one. I always wonder if by doing both I end up not going very deep in either. I don’t know. But I do know many people for some reason conclude early on that they are not artistic. I’ve heard that from a lot of people.

Dee also asked if she could start her own blog. Yes, I said immediately. Then I got to thinking about all the predators out there. I’ll have to give it more thought. (And then there’s the question of time to help her set it up. Maybe when I retire? But then she won’t be a kid anymore!)

Wow. QM here, checking in at the Ravine. What a lively conversation and post. I’m in Pennsylvania at Mom’s house. She and my brother picked me up from Baltimore airport. What a gift to see them both. I logged into the Ravine and Mom immediately said, “I love those drawings!” How gifted Dee is. And how lucky she is to have a mother like you.

I don’t think we have to choose one or the other – writing or art. We get to do both. Remember when Natalie talked about Katagiri asking her what she was willing to put her ass on the line for? Maybe we have it be different things at different times. When I was in art school, I put my ass on the line for art. Now, I do it for writing. But I am both – writer and artist. It’s a great question to ask ourselves.

I don’t ever think we are too old to learn to draw or paint or do any kind of art. But it sure seems easier in the beginner’s mind of youth. If we have supportive people in our court. What great comments and discussion.

skywire: thought of you at school tonight. monkey mind is there, but how great that beginner’s mind is there, too, (along with Peanut M&M’s). It seems like in school, everything is fresh and new. It’s like starting over to begin a new class. I see that you love it so much.

I have to say it feels good to check in here from the road. It’s like coming home.

ybonesy: about concerns about the kid blog for Dee. I think you might be able to set it up as a private blog and invite people in. I read something about it. The number of users might be limited to 35 or something. There might be many possibilities.

ybonesy — loved the art, the image of you with your beautiful, beloved children hallowing your lives with what many might consider unnecessary pursuits. How you choose to spend your time reminds me of a poem I heard on the Writer’s Almanac yesterday. Here it is:

Advice to Myself
Louise Erdrich
(from Original Fire: Selected and New Poems)

Leave the dishes.
Let the celery rot in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator
and an earthen scum harden on the kitchen floor.
Leave the black crumbs in the bottom of the toaster.
Throw the cracked bowl out and don’t patch the cup.
Don’t patch anything. Don’t mend. Buy safety pins.
Don’t even sew on a button.
Let the wind have its way, then the earth
that invades as dust and then the dead
foaming up in gray rolls underneath the couch.
Talk to them. Tell them they are welcome.
Don’t keep all the pieces of the puzzles
or the doll’s tiny shoes in pairs, don’t worry
who uses whose toothbrush or if anything
matches, at all.
Except one word to another. Or a thought.
Pursue the authentic-decide first
what is authentic,
then go after it with all your heart.
Your heart, that place
you don’t even think of cleaning out.
That closet stuffed with savage mementos.
Don’t sort the paper clips from screws from saved baby teeth
or worry if we’re all eating cereal for dinner
again. Don’t answer the telephone, ever,
or weep over anything at all that breaks.
Pink molds will grow within those sealed cartons
in the refrigerator. Accept new forms of life
and talk to the dead
who drift in though the screened windows, who collect
patiently on the tops of food jars and books.
Recycle the mail, don’t read it, don’t read anything
except what destroys
the insulation between yourself and your experience
or what pulls down or what strikes at or what shatters
this ruse you call necessity.

I *love* that poem. Accept new forms of life. Yes! Let an earthen scum harden on the floor, don’t sort the baby teeth from the screws from the paper clips. Gee, has she been spying on my life right now? Another great topic: letting go of the veneer of perfection to pursue your passion. You might be able to have writing AND art, but you can’t have both a tidy life AND a passionate creative life. Can you?

Well, truth be told, even my spices are in alphabetical order. And the CDs and books, according to genre. So my living space is clean and orderly enough so I can really let go creatively. Sometimes too much chaos and dust sucks the energy out of the room. That’s just me — it may be different for other folks.

Interesting about starting with a border. It reminds of of the way Natalie said when the title of the book comes to her, she knows she’s got a book.

About order and chaos theories – there are two schools of thought. I recently saw this article on creative geniuses with messy spaces. And then other people love the structure and order from which to create. I’ve done both.

Right now, my space is kind of messy (and Liz has the patience of a Saint) because I don’t want to take precious time to get it in order. But on the other hand, I need to take that time. I like really lived in and warm places. But I also like a sense of order. I wonder if I can have both?

I’ve wondered about this, too. When I saw the movie Iris, I felt compelled to have a house that was so full of stacks of books and papers that I could barely move. That was the house of a real genius. Then one of my friends told me about a book she read about Georgia O’Keeffe, and that she lived with barely any furniture in her house (just enough to be functional), with a huge vase of flowers here and there. The opposite extreme.
I’m like Sharonimo, I need things really clean and orderly in order to think. I don’t think it matters which we are, perhaps just accept it and live.
Thanks for the poem, Sharonimo. Loved it.

I’m torn now between wanting to comment, or to go clean a closet or cupboard. The middle road is to have things orderly on the surface, but behind closed doors–chaos! Now that the kids are grown, I’m tackling those challenging interior spaces…Hey! Whaddaya know? It’s just like writing and the rest of my life!

breathepeace: I like the idea of the garden middle way. It feels peaceful and fair somehow. Do what is needed for the practice of cultivating and gardening. And then let go.

I am tending several gardens this year for the first time in a long time. Last December I moved from 14 years of apartment living to a home with a yard and gardens to tend to. I find it one of the the richest ways to stay connected to ground. I’m astounded every day at the next thing that blooms.

Thanks for the link to Dee’s pictures and all of your comments. I still plan to share at least one of my new poems–and my new found enjoyment of poetry with you. I enjoyed the whole conversation that I just read, even though it is 11:30 at night and I should be in bed. This is my precious time for myself. Your daughters are lucky to have such a creatively inspired mom…and they are both beautiful creative souls. Here I am in mid life just beginning to open to the creative life, a little late, but at least I am beginning. With each new day, there is still time, even if sqeezed into the late night hours. Last night, I memorized ee cummings’ poem I Thank You God for Most This Amazing Day…one of the poems I have always loved. Maybe I’ll finish with the last two lines:
(now the ears of my ears are awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

I love those lines. They say everything about waking up to our lives. You are a completely awake-to-your-world person, Shira, and I have a feeling that because of that your creative endeavors will be strong and profound. Writing practice is all about being awake, living each moment.

So many of us are in that same boat of having to squeeze in our writing and art when everyone is asleep and the house quiet. It’s a constrant struggle for me, because I get more and more impassioned by my creative passions, yet I can’t squeeze out any more time for them than what I have. But my girls will grow up soon enough, which is what I remind myself.